Title: The Beginning of the End
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to SPN. However, I do own many of the wrongs :D
Warnings: Wincest
Word Count: 5,809
Summary: The Third and Final part of my Lazarus 'verse.
A/N: Researching Latin exorcisms brings up lots of amusing site, such as a hrefmylatinexperience./2007/11/friend-of-mine-asked-me-this-on-my-own.htmlthis/a. Made me laugh anyways
Beta: As always, the lovely lj user"katzb101" Thanks hon grin
…
i12 days; 7 hours; 37 minutes; 22 seconds…/i
The boys were nocturnal now.
Days spent in a tangle of limbs and sheets, the insistent sun pushing against the blinds drawn to keep it out, their dreams dark and twisted and cruel.
At sundown they woke, celebrating the start of the hunt, smiles and laughter and teeth and violence, eyes and hearts burning.
i12 days; 9 hours; 7 minutes; 37 seconds… /i
Since the start of the beginning of the end.
…
"She's coming, you know." Sam stated, matter-of-factly, one morning as they returned to their room, bloodied and bruised and victorious.
Dean turned, wariness in his eyes, as he reached for his brother. "I had wondered" he said, picking up a cloth and trying to clean up a huge tear in Sam's shoulder that had gone clean through his shirt and ripped open his flesh. "That's gonna scar."
Sam laughed, softly, as he pushed Dean's hand away, ignoring the look he received. "I think that is the least of our worries at the moment…" Dean stopped and looked at him, then walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge, dark look in his eyes. He turned to Sam.
"How soon?"
Sam shrugged. "I don't know what timescale she's working on – hours; days; weeks; months. I just know she's coming…" he trailed off and walked to the window, pulling the curtain back a little and peering out. "I can feel her… here" he raised his hand to his right temple and pressed it to his head, wincing as though in physical pain.
"Hey, it's ok, she can't get you… She can't get either of us, remember? We're in this together" said Dean as he got up, walked over to the window and stood by Sam, resting his head on Sam's shoulder.
Sam looked away with guilt, words unspoken between them. He hadn't told Dean all of it; hadn't told him about what had started since Dean had been back, since he'd brought Dean back; the visions, the prophecies he was seeing, each time he closed his eyes. What was, what is, what is to be; every possibility spiraling through his mind, fire and death and pain and war. That was why he'd thrown himself so deep into the hunts, the act of slashing and burning any fucking demon he got his hands on was redemption to his soul.
Sam laughed inwardly at that thought. Soul. What fucking soul. Did he even have one anymore? Sometimes he hoped he didn't; it would make it all easier, in the end.
He straightened up and, with a last glance out the window, turned round. "I don't know when, but it'll be soon. And we've only got one chance, Dean." The urgency was obvious in his voice, and he wasn't sure who he was more worried for – Dean or himself.
Sam turned back to look outside, faraway look on his face, unawares of the bright-yellow flames burning in his eyes.
…
Bobby sat in his cabin, moving a few papers from one surface to another, checking some piece of equipment, picking it up then setting it down again.
He opened up a battered, old laptop computer, tapped a few keys and grunted in satisfaction with what he saw. Checking the time on a clock on the table, he closed the lid on the computer, picked up his keys and went to leave. Hesitating, he looked back and reached down to a drawer by his desk and took out an item. Smiling grimly, he placed it in his bag with the rest of his belongings and left the cabin, locking and checking the doors twice, then made his way to his truck.
There was no time to lose.
...
The last of the day's sun was arcing over the sky, making its lazy descent towards the horizon. Sam sat up in the bed, awake, sheet draped over his legs; Dean's regular breathing providing the backdrop to his thoughts, the closeness of skin and warmth grounding him.
Lilith was close. He let himself use her name in his head, where it had less power, where it wouldn't shine like a beacon. He didn't know ihow/i, or iwhy/i, just that it iwas/i. They would have to move tonight, when the night covered them, kept them safe. Not that he know where they were going.
Yet.
He felt Dean stir beside him, and looked down, smiling, as his eyes flickered open.
"Hey," Sam spoke, softly, smiling and untangling Dean's arm from the sheet when he'd had it wrapped up, causing him to make confused, sleepy sounds. "You awake?"
A noise that came out Dean's mouth that could've been yes or no; Sam took it as the former.
"We gotta make a move, man, it's gotta be today," Sam tried to keep the urgency out his voice, didn't want to panic him, but it was too late. Dean's eyes flew open and he moved to sit up, scanning the room.
"What's up?" he asked, voice low and still thick with sleep, sitting with his back up against the cold motel wall.
"Hey, don't panic; not yet, not now," Sam looked at Dean, still so determined to protect him from the monsters under the bed. But could he protect him from himself, Sam wondered? It almost broke him to even think of it.
"We got time for breakfast?" Dean said, smiling, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light. "Damn, it's early."
Sam smiled at Dean and for a moment – just for a moment – it seems normal, right, ordinary. But he tried not to fool himself with these things – it only led to dark places, full of bitterness and lies and self-deceit. They had a plan now, a reason, a meaning.
"We gotta get on the road before sundown, close the distance… You know as well as I do that this isn't finished - hell, this is just the start. We need to stop her, Dean, we need..." he trailed off. Even with everything that had happened, he didn't want to bring his brother into it, despite the fact he was already in, almost as deep as Sam.
Dean sighed and looked at Sam sideways. He swung his legs off the bed, bare feet touching down on the worn carpet below. He stood up, stretched, yawned and turned back to Sam who was still sitting there, sheet pooled around his waist, and a far-off look on his face. Dean snapped his fingers. "Anyone there?"
Sam started and blinked, looked up at Dean with a confused look that quickly melted to nothing.
"Sorry, was just thinking…"
"Some heavy-duty thinkin' going on there!" Dean said, trying to put some lightness into the situation, slight tease in his voice. Sam nodded and gave a small smile. "So, where we headed then?"
Sam took a deep breath and looked away from Dean, into the distance, focusing on something that wasn't in sight, and he spoke, softly:
"We're going home."
…
Bobby swung the truck round a corner, and it groaned with protest. Shouting encouragement at the battered machine, he coaxed some more speed from it, tearing along the highway. He knew that timing was tight, the outcome in the balance. He prayed there was still enough of the boy in there to realize this.
And he prayed he would get there in time.
...
The road passed by under the tires, rolling along, an insistent grumbling that almost matched Dean's.
"But why are we going back, Sam? Why? What aren't you telling me?" his anger flashed through, eyes sharp and bright as he glanced sideways.
Sam was sitting curled up in the passenger side, knees hugged up to his chest, and Dean's eyes opened wide when he saw how utterly defeated he looked.
"Dude, what's up?" Dean asked softly, pushing down the rising anger in him, anger that had become almost a constant part of him since… since Sam shared with him that power.
Sam looked up at Dean and his eyes were so full of pain and fear that Dean looked away quickly, anything to get away.
"I don't know what's happening anymore, Dean. Sometimes… sometimes I can pretend it's all ok, and then… something will happen and it's like it's not even ime/i anymore… like someone else is controlling me. Like there's someone else in here with me."
Dean looked straight ahead, following the lines of the road, anonymous roads and cars passing by, the pale moonlight flashing off the occasional bit of metal passing them by. He sighed.
"I know, Sammy, I know… I've been… well, yeah. I know what you mean." And he left it at that, not wanting to speak of the wave of emotions he'd been feeling himself, the anger and the desperation, the feeling of inevitability that had been stalking him, getting closer day by day.
After a few minutes, Sam turned to Dean, and spoke so softly that initially he thought he'd just been hearing things.
"What if I can't stop her?"
Dean looked at Sam then back to the road, trying to keep his mind of the route ahead before answering.
"Sammy, what's the point in asking that? It's not like we have a choice now" Dean gave a short laugh, bitter and derisive. "We either defeat her, or we don't. Simple as." He softened his words by reaching out, wrapping a hand around Sam's shoulder and squeezing gently, his actions giving Sam the support his words couldn't.
Dean put both hands back on the wheel and looked up, into the darkness that was ahead, into the unknown.
"Let's get this over and done with"
…
They pulled into the first motel they found in Lawrence just before sun-up, the promise of a bright-hot day ahead of them. Dean squinted through the light then turned to Sam, who was still curled in his seat, head leaning on his arm which was resting on the door.
"You ok?" he asked, concerned.
Sam lifted his head slowly, looked up at Dean and blinked; eyes burning. He shivered as Sam spoke, voice low and flat.
"She's here."
A flash of panic rushed through Dean as he glanced over, seeing Sam so broken, so small i"How on earth could Sam look small," he thought, scared/i and Dean pulled into the nearest space in the car lot, tires plowing through the gravel dust. He reached over, touched Sam on his thigh, crushed when Sam physically winced from the touch, and he looked over.
"Well, we'd better be ready then."
…
The room was dark, the carpet worn and the curtains drawn. Dean held the door open for Sam, who walked in slowly, glancing round as though expecting something to jump out the shadows. Maybe it would, Dean thought, as he watched Sam walk over to the bed furthest away, walking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Dean shut the door behind him with a soft iclick/i and made his way over to Sam, who was standing staring blankly down at his duffel, shoulders slumped. He snaked an arm around Sam's waist, noting with concern how thin he seemed, and turned Sam around to face him. Reaching up with his hand, he cupped Sam's face in his hand and spoke, softly.
"Whatever happens, whatever we do, we'll do it together, 'k?" and he reached up to bring their lips together. "Now, I'm gonna go off to get some food. It might be the Apocalypse but I'm hungry and I'm not going into a fight on an empty stomach." Dean said, with a grin.
"Try and get something with some nutritional value this time, please" Sam said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Pfft – over-rated!" Dean shot back, as he turned to leave. "Stay here, rest a bit..." he let the rest of the sentence trail off. They both knew they needed to be ready to fight – to fight for their lives, once again.
Dean left the motel room and, as the door shut, he sagged slightly against it. No turning back now, he thought; no turning back.
…
Sam lay on the bed, face turned away from the window and the chinks of light coming in from the gaps in the curtain. He lay there, silent, un-moving, listening to the thoughts in his head. He listened to the whisperings, to the voices, to the promises and temptations and the lies, and he made up his mind.
Getting up from the bed, he made his way to the door, leaving his every possession, and opened the door. Walking out, he let it swing shut and moved down the corridor without a look back.
He stepped out the front doors, glanced around, then made his way across the car lot, across the street and slipped down an alley.
…
Bobby pulled up into the motel car lot in a shower of dust and dirt, spraying up against the truck's exterior.
He opened the door and jumped out, almost before the truck had stopped moving, grabbed his bag and ran into the motel reception. He flew through the doors and startled the blonde on reception, who almost fell off her chair in shock.
"Hey! You seen a coupla boys come in recently? One tall, moody-looking, the other shorter with dark hair?
"What's it worth, man? My info don't come for free!" she said, lazily.
Bobby leaned over the counter til he was almost in her face and growled.
"Believe me, its worth more than money can buy! Now, where are they?"
She swallowed audibly and blinked. "Room 42. Checked in 'bout an hour ago. Short one went out 'bout ten minutes ago, the other one's still in the room. You want me to call 'em?"
Bobby shook his head. "Don't tell them anything - 'k?"
She just nodded mutely in agreement as Bobby turned and ran out the door."
...
"Damn door… get the fucking… Arghh" Dean exclaimed, as he dropped the bag of groceries he'd been carrying. Looking down in frustration, he shouted "You could've offered to help, Sam!"
When he got no reply, he looked up. The beds were both empty, and no sign of Sam. He looked to the bathroom, the door to which was open, and provided Dean a view that confirmed to him that his brother wasn't in there either. Ignoring the discarded shopping he went out into the hallway, calling Sam's name, the door swinging shut behind him. He ran to reception, where he saw the same blonde-haired girl that checked them in earlier, deeply engrossed in reading a magazine.
"Hey… hey… have you seen the guy I came in with? Did he leave here? Like recently?" The words tumbled out of him, unchecked.
She looked up with agonizing slowness and he forced himself to wait until her braincells engaged.
"Yuh. Saw him leave 'bout thirty minutes 'go" She went back to her magazine.
"Wait!" Dean shouted, forcing himself not to jump over the counter to shake it out of her. "Which way did he go?"
Her eyes took a while to focus "Went over there, 'cross the road" She waved in a vague, general direction. She started to wonder whether she should tell him about the other guy that'd come in looking for them, but before she had a chance Dean rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of frustration and he turned to run out the doors.
Wherever Sam was, he'd find him. Then beat his ass for scaring him like this.
…
Sam walked through the maze of roads and buildings silently, wearing the shadows like a cloak, wrapping themselves around him like a blanket; covering, protecting, encouraging. He looked around furtively, crossing roads and open ground, always feeling the eyes of some unknown watcher on him.
Pulling his jacket tighter around him, Sam put his head down and made his way across to a vacant lot. Taking a half-hidden back walkway, he came out the other end in front of a church, disused and abandoned. Ivy was growing on the outside, unchecked, and a number of windows were smashed, the ivy creeping in through the holes and invading the church.
He made his way up the steps at the front, and pushed open the heavy oak doors that gave him entrance without resistance. Sam made his way through the porch, to another, smaller, set of doors. Without hesitation, he pushed them open and they gave way with a soft creak, admitting him to the inner sanctum. He walked into the nave, past the cracked font to his right, covered in moss and damp, down the central aisle, and felt the eyes of the forgotten saints on him, cracked and worn; watching, waiting. As he passed the rows of benches, he looked up to the pulpit, deserted and worn and dying and made his way to the altar steps.
When he reached them, he stopped, dropped to his knees, and waited.
…
Dean ran through the streets.
He had no idea of where he was heading, just knowing, a mental compass inside him pointing to Sam. He ran along, praying, hoping, that he'd get there in time.
As he rounded a corner he fell into a refuse bin, sending the contents flying and scattering across the pathway. A light came on from above and a string of expletives aimed at him, but Dean was too occupied. Jumping over the pile of trash, he got to the end of the alley and stopped, looking around.
Dean saw the abandoned church in front of him, and he iknew/i.
…
"I thought you wouldn't come."
Sam raised his head from where it had been resting on his arm, and looked up, blinking. He saw a woman, long, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, the late afternoon sun streaming in through the windows, glaring off her golden hair and blinding him. He raised an arm to shield his eyes, and he blinked.
"You knew I couldn't stay away." He stated, plainly.
She threw her head back and laughed, sharp and cool, like icicles shattering. "It's true. I knew you would come. So desperate to save your brother, too blind to save yourself…" She moved closer to him.
Sam got up, unfurled himself from the steps, and rose to meet her.
"You want me, Lilith? You take me. I'm all yours. You want to kill me? Fine!" He spat.
Lilith laughed; a high, delicate sound. "You think I want to kill you, Samuel Winchester? Oh no, I have better plans for you! I thought I understood before, but now… now, I know!"
Sam hesitated a second, pulled back. He had been sure Lilith was here to kill him – hadn't Ruby said she wanted his intestines on a stick"? He blinked, and that was all she needed.
In a second, she was beside him, hands reaching up, touching him, caressing, teasing.
"Sam, oh Sam… So tired, so frustrated, so angry… I can take that away from you, make you whole, who you are meant to be… my consort, my lover, together for eternity..." she let the words trail off, hanging in the air.
Sam closed his eyes, trying to block out her words, trying to keep control of him, of himself, of his being. But she continued.
"You have no idea of who you are, of who you can be… of who you are meant to be…." She reached up, caressing his face, light fingers trailing down his cheeks, and his breath caught in his throat. "Oh, Sam… poor Samuel… come with me…"
And before he could think, the world moved underneath him, and the scenery ishifted/i.
…
Dean ran out onto the street, could feel the blood pumping in is veins, and yet more… more than just blood, it was a bond, his soul, his reason. He could've been in the pitch dark and would still have been able to locate Sam. He stood out like a beacon.
Rounding the corner, he pulled up and almost lost his balance, as he stopped in front of a church, long-since abandoned. Shattered glass panes, creepers making their way up the outside and in, and he knew.
Could feel Sam inside.
…
iSam blinked, and he found himself somewhere else.
Gone were the stone steps of the altar, the pressing enclosure of the abandoned church, the feeling of hopelessness, abandonment, despair.
He was standing on top of a high range, mountains to the back of him, tall and foreboding. In front, a drop down to a town; a county, a country. He didn't know which. And wouldn't ever, if the scene was anything to go by. The whole place was in ruins, flames dancing and consuming, powered by a hunger unstoppable by human nature. It consumed everything in its path, human or not. The sounds of screams pierced the air and shot to his heart. Sam turned to Lilith, beside him.
"Where are we? What have you done?" he shouted, demanded.
Lilith just laughed. "Oh, this isn't me, sweetheart!" her eyes dancing with amusement.
Sam looked at her, confused, angry, determined, the question left unspoken.
Lilith walked up to Sam, reached out and held his face in her hands, traced a line down his cheek. "Poor Sam, you don't understand, do you? All this…" she swept her arm across, showing the chaos below. "All this is what will happen if you don't accept my offer." Her eyes sparkled.
Sam pulled back, shocked, afraid, and looked at her through eyes, half-closed in suspicion.
"And what do you get from it?" he said, warily.
Lilith smiled, and it was beautiful, radiant.
"Why, silly – I get you, of course!"
Sam looked out at the scene of carnage and the breath caught in his throat. Before he knew what was happening, Lilith was beside his, arm around his waist, hand going up to his head, fingers trailing down his cheek, down his throat, across his chest, grasping and knowing.
"Samuel Winchester, you know nothing… but I can tell you so much…" and Lilith stepped forwards, reaching up with one hand to entwine her fingers in his hair, and she brought his head down to hers, to press their lips together, tongue snaking in through his lips, searching.
Sam tried to resist, to stop, to pull back, but he couldn't. Finding himself trapped under Lilith, she slowly laid him down on the ground, the town still burning below, the smell of sulfur on the air, and she pressed down onto him, straddling him, eyes burning bright.
"You see, Sam, once we are joined, once we are together… no-one can stop us…" and she smiled at him, hand reaching below, and he lost all thought…/i
…
Dean flew through the church doors and skidded to a halt just as he came to the inner sanctum doorway. Taking a deep breath, he pulled them open and ran in.
Flying through the doors, he ran down the aisle, and saw Sam, lying there, immobile, with a woman on top of him. Confused for a moment, he hesitated, and the woman looked up at him, looked at him with bright white eyes, and any uncertainty left him.
"Sammy!" Dean shouted, as he ran to the altar, full speed. He launched himself at her, and she didn't have a chance to prepare herself as he ran into her and knocked her off-balance and off of Sam. They flew into a broken screen, and Dean shouted to his brother.
Sam blinked, and tried to get up. Failing on the first attempt he tried harder, rolling onto his side the pushing himself up from the ground. Getting to his feet, he swayed slightly.
"Dean?" his voice carried, wavering.
Lilith tried to break free from Dean's grip, snarling and spitting, but Dean held her down – how, he didn't know, but he did.
Sam stood up and took a deep breath. Looking at where they were both lying, in the back of the altar, he blinked, and as he looked at them, his eyes were on fire, flames burning.
"Dean."
Sam's voice carried through the air like fire through ice, melting all possible resistance between them.
Dean stopped, looked up and looked at Sam. Their eyes met, and he felt a jolt run through his body, from his head to his feet, pulling him, connecting them, and he let go of Lilith, let her fall to the ground, and got up to walk towards Sam, his eyes responding in kind to Sam's.
Lilith laughed, high-pitched and cruel.
"You think you can defeat me? You're nothing without me, nothing – do you hear?" she screeched, going to get up from the ground where she was lying.
Sam reached out an arm, almost lazily, and reached out to her. Lilith flew backwards, smashing into the church wall, solid and unyielding. She blinked, and tried to get up, and a brief flash of panic registered on her face before the usual sneer came back.
"That all you got, Sam? Can't say I'm surprised… you never did realize your full potential."
Sam smiled; a cold, vicious smile, and he spoke, softly, though his words carried throughout the church.
"That's not all I've got – not even half!"
Dean moved up behind him, reached out and interlaced his fingers with Sam, shocked at how hot he was. Sam felt almost on fire, and Dean wouldn't have been surprised if flames had actually shot from Sam's fingers to his own when they touched.
As it was, he felt a bust of energy, of life, of power, and Dean had no choice but to open his eyes and laugh, staring into Lilith's eyes with his own, and he grinned when he saw her falter, saw her hesitate.
"See, it's not just me, Lilith. You should know this by now, don't go anywhere without my brother…" and they walked over to where she way lying, prone, laid out on the alter steps. Sam put one foot either side of her, bent down and reached out a hand to touch her face.
"This is where you learn to say goodbye!"
Sam just finished the sentence when a figure stepped out from behind the screen.
"Bobby! What are you doing here?" Dean's head swung round from where he was standing. Sam looked up and round, saw Bobby.
"I thought I told you to stay away!" Sam shouted and shook his head, not angry, more sad. He reached out for Dean, who took his hand, trailing it up his arm and over his chest, the feeling of iright/i and ipower/i too strong to resist.
"Yeah, you did – but I told you before, family don't stop at blood. For one, I thought you might need some help…" Bobby said, as he pulled back a corner of the altar carpet – to reveal a Devil's Trap, which just contained Lilith.
"You boys! Always think you're so clever!" Lilith hissed, trying to push herself up from the floor, but failing. Sam still stood over her, eyes burning and pulse racing, breathing hard and fast as she struggled underneath her.
Dean stood behind him, bodies pressed close together, so close Dean could feel Sam's heartbeat, breath coming in tandem now, in-and-out, together as one being.
Sam took a deep breath, and leant backwards, oh-so-slightly, into Dean's body, strong and supportive, and glanced at Bobby, who started:
i"Crux sancta sit mihi lux, Non draco sit mihi dux, Vade retro satana, Nunquam suade mihi vana, Sunt mala quae libas, Ipse venena bibas…/i
Lilith grinned and laughed "Is that all you've got, boys? I must say, I'm disappointed!"
Sam looked back at the demon and smiled himself, and his eyes reflected the venom in the smile.
"Oh – we haven't even started yet!" and Sam smiled, took a deep breath and started:
i"Regna terrae, cantate Deo,
psallite Domino
qui
fertis super caelum
caeli ad Orientem
Ecce dabit voci Suae
vocem virtutis,
tribuite virtutem Deo.
Exorcizamus te,
omnis immundus spiritus
omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio
infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,
omnis congregatio et
secta diabolica…"/i
Lilith began to laugh, a high keeping sound and she began to thrash, struggling to free herself from Sam's hold. But Sam just stood above her, staring, hand outreached to keep her down, as he carried on chanting;
iErgo draco maledicte
et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus
te.
cessa decipere humanas creaturas,
eisque aeternae
Perditionis venenum propinare.
Vade, Satana, inventor et
magister
omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis.
Humiliare
sub potenti manu dei,
contremisce et effuge, invocato a
nobis
sancto et terribili nomine,
quem inferi tremunt./i
Sam reached back with his free hand, and encircled Dean's waist, pulling him closer, encouraging, asking. Dean understood, and joined in, their voices entwining with each other and gaining volume and power:
i"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine.
Ut Ecclesiam
tuam secura tibi facias
libertate servire, te rogamus, audi
nos.
Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris,
te
rogamus, audi nos.
Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae
te
rogamus, audi nos.
Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo.
Deus
Israhel ipse truderit virtutem
et fortitudinem plebi
Suae.
Benedictus Deus. Gloria Patri."/i
The last words were spoken, in perfect unison, and they carried on up through the church, breaking through the rooftop and spiraling upwards. On their way, they reached out to Lilith, pulled her in and up, and she began to scream, desperate to hold onto her body.
Bobby shouted Dean's name, and as he turned round, the older man threw something at him that he caught cleanly, reflexes sharp and instinctive.
Dean looked down at what he'd caught, and confusion ran over his face - how on earth had Bobby got the Blade? He looked up, questioningly, but the older hunter just looked impatient at him.
Pushing aside questions, Dean turned round to Lilith, stepping aside from Sam and lunged towards her. He fell to one knee and, with a final look at Sam, plunged the blade into her body, blade tearing through material and skin alike.
With one final scream, she was pulled her away, dragged her out of the stolen body she inhabited and the demon-smoke began to pour out of her mouth, body twitching and jerking as the blade tore her apart. A wind picked up, a gale blowing through the building where no wind should have been able to reach, and Sam shrank back against Dean, who put his arm up to shield them both from the debris being dragged up.
They stepped back from the body, Dean pulling Sam to the side, to shelter, to safety, as he looked over towards Bobby who was behind one of the pews. With a final gust, the wind blew itself out, and a veil of silence fell over them. Sam stood staring at the lifeless body now on the altar, and without making a noise, fell to the ground.
Dean was on him instantly, holding up his head, supporting it, stroking Sam's hair with his free hand, talking in a low voice.
"C'mon Sam… come on… not now, dammit, not now!" his voice became erratic, and he didn't notice Bobby coming up behind him.
"Hey now, son, come away. Let me see to him…"
Dean's head whipped round and he glanced at Bobby, eyes wild. The older man wisely stayed where he was, concern and fear etched on his face. Dean looked down at Sam's unconscious body in shock and silence, reaching out to brush the hair from his eyes.
Suddenly, Sam's eyes flew open, and Dean almost fell back with shock.
"What the…? Dean?" Sam's voice came out, thin and scared, and he struggled to sit up.
"Hey there, not so fast!" and he helped Sam up, slowly, taking the chance to give him a once-over to see if there were any visible injuries and being satisfied that there weren't. They both stood upright, shaky but alive, and Dean took one look at Sam and reached out, pulling his brother in close, and they stayed there in silence.
Bobby coughed, quietly, and they broke apart, smiling, embarrassed, and turned to the older hunter.
"You boys finished?" the words were rough but there was a smile in Bobby's eyes as he spoke.
Dean cleared his throat. "Umm, yeah…" He turned and made his way down the steps, in front of Sam in case he stumbled. As they reached the floor of the nave, Dean looked up at Bobby, confused.
"Hey, wait a minute – how did you know we were here?"
Bobby just smiled, forgoing the luxury to be embarrassed. "Put a tracker on the car last time I saw you. Knew there was something going down, didn't want to miss it."
"But the car's back at the motel – how'd you find this place? I didn't even know it was here I just… I just followed Sam." Dean stated, trailing off.
"Once I knew where you boys were heading, I did some research. Turns out this church used to play host to a dark pagan group that revered Lilith. She had strong ties here, this was where she was strongest… Thought she'd just be up against Sam here, didn't reckon on you having company. And before you ask about the blade - well, you boys ain't the only ones with sticky fingers. Knew you'd be needing my help and wasn't gonna wait til you'd got it into your thick skullls to ask" Bobby grumbled, though dark amusement touched his eyes.
Sam smiled weakly and leaned on Dean for support, who put an arm around his waist, pulled him closer.
"You ok?" Dean asked, quietly.
Sam nodded. "Not quite sure what's been going on though. Feels like I've been run over by a semi" and he smiled.
Bobby looked around "We can go through all that later, boys. Now, we gotta go – there's no telling who else might be on our trail. I've got the truck outside – I'll take you back to the motel, you can pick up the car and come back with me."
Sam looked up, worried "You sure, Bobby? As you said, we don't know what's out there! I don't want to bring any more on you…"
Bobby rolled his eyes. "You boys are pig-headed sometimes. You two are coming back with me, and that's an order, ok?"
Sam and Dean both nodded in mute agreement, and they made their way up the aisle. Suddenly, Sam stopped, turned to Dean and whispered.
"Do you feel it?"
Dean looked confused "Feel what?"
"Exactly!" and he reached out to press his hand to Dean's temple, soft but sure, and his brother understood.
"It's gone! That pressure… the anger, the rage, the…" he
trailed off as he realized he'd let on more to Sam than he had
before.
But Sam just smiled and nodded.
"I think, this time, just for once… I think we did good."
…